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Tuesday, November 08, 2005


used to pedal with this mad prof from local U.

He was one burly, surly son of a cur on the bike,
and like it or not,
crashed me more than once or twice.

His morning commute
5 miles made twenty,
ended with a sprint
so vicious, so hungry,
that his first steps to work
bedraggled, stumbly.

In the U's locker room,
knotting his tie and loosening his thigh,
the showers ran cold
when mad prof was offered
lecture from young frosh math 'structor.

"30 minutes a day,
is all a man must pay,
in exercise and activity
to be the picture of health and virility."

Sour and rank as devil's rot breath,
Mad Prof turned, burned, and in brittle voice,

"ain't doin this for my health, son,
ain't doin this outta choice."


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